


Little

by Salchat



Series: Gatebnb [4]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Campfires, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:14:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24452725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salchat/pseuds/Salchat
Summary: Four children make friends and explore.
Series: Gatebnb [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1694692
Comments: 9
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know this has been done many times before, but I couldn’t resist, so here’s my version! I hope you enjoy it! I’ve posted the first two chapters today and I’ll do the last two tomorrow, and that way there’ll be no fights over the PC on Monday and you get some weekend reading!

There was a blank ceiling where his model planes should hang, a white sheet where there should be red and blue patchwork; there were strange pajamas and a strange bed in a big room with three other beds, and over there, two boys, no, a boy and a girl, fighting.

He scrabbled backward up the bed, pressing into the wall, legs curled, arms clutching round his knees, heart racing, eyes filled with wrongness. Where was home? Where was his room? And Mom and Dad and Baby Davey? He buried his head in his arms and closed his eyes, tight shut and knew, just knew, it must be a dream. There was a thud, a cry, pattering feet, the bed bounced down and up, down and up. He slowly raised his head. The girl and boy were chasing each other; they crashed to the ground and rolled over and over in a tangle of gripping arms and kicking legs. The lump in his throat grew, his chest heaved up and down beneath the blank, white pajamas and his mouth wobbled, vision shimmering and blurring. 

There was a loud sob, which came from somewhere between the other beds. Surprise, and a blink brought the room back into focus. Another miserable sound and he was sliding off the bed and over the top of the next. A boy was hiding in the space between the beds, curled into an unhappy ball of white pajamas and light brown hair.

"Hey."

The boy looked up. His face was red and wet, his blue eyes puffy, his nose running. He sniffed, damply and large tears continued to roll down his cheeks. One slid to the corner of his down-turned mouth and then further, all the way to drip off his chin. He sobbed again, as if he couldn't stop.

"My name's John. What's yours?"

John slithered head first off the bed, rolled over and wriggled around to kneel, facing the stranger.

"Mdth Rnee Mkay."

"Huh?"

An aggrieved sigh was followed by careful, if sorrowful, enunciation. "Meredith Rodney McKay."

John digested this reply. "Mewediff," he experimented.

The boy nodded and sniffed again. "Is this... is this a hospital? Am I sick?"

John shrugged. "Dunno. D'you feel sick?"

"Maybe. Yes. I'm sick, aren't I?"

"You don't look sick. Just kinda red. And snotty."

"Why am I in hospital, then?"

John knelt up and looked around. The girl was sitting on top of the struggling boy. He ducked below bed height again. "I don't think this is a hospital. Where are the nurses and doctors and that..." He broke off to sniff the air. "That hospital smell?"

"Oh. No." Meredith wiped his face on his sleeve, leaving a sticky trail. "I want to go home."

John bit his lip, hard. "Scoot over a bit." He pushed his way in next to Meredith so that they both leant against the wall, pressed together in the narrow space. John ducked his head, just a quick down and up to check the dark under-bed space to either side. He looked at Meredith, who mightn't think much of someone who went round checking for _things_ under beds, but he didn't appear to have noticed.

"Could be aliens," said John, knowledgeably.

"Aliens?"

The idea didn't seem to upset Meredith, so John continued. "Yeah, you know, they want to find out about us, so they scoop us up and bring us here."

"Scoop? said Meredith scornfully, wiping his nose on his sleeve again. "They'd prob'ly zap or beam or dema... dematree..." He huffed, impatiently. "Dematreealize! Like on Doctor Who!"

"Oh. Yeah."

"You do watch Doctor Who, don't you?"

"Uh, I like Star Trek," John avoided. 

He was subjected to a narrow-eyed glare. "You should watch Doctor Who. It's better."

"Isn't he some old guy, though? Captain Kirk's way cooler!"

"Some old guy? He's a Time Lord! And he doesn't go round kissing girls all the time! Urgh!"

John grimaced agreement. "Urgh! But the fights are good, and the Enterprise!"

"The TARDIS travels in time and space! Bet you don't know what TARDIS stands for! Time-and-relative-dimensions-in-space!"

"Oh."

"And! There's always something going wrong with the Enterprise. Scotty should make the warp drive work more 'fficiently! Maybe the Klingons have got better engines or one of those other aliens and he could put them all together and go faster than anyone!"

"That'd be cool," said John. "Hey, let's play Star Trek and I'll be Kirk and you be Scotty and we'll beat all the bad guys and save the world and the galaxy and the universe and everything!"

"Maybe," said Meredith, looking down at his fingers, which were twisted into the fabric of his pajamas.

"What's wrong?"

"They're still there, aren't they? Those mean boys, fighting?" A cry and a thud came from somewhere outside their safe haven. "They might hurt us."

"One of them's a girl, I think," said John, doubtfully.

Meredith rolled his eyes. "Girls don't fight! They have stupid dolls, and bows and stuff in their hair!"

John knelt up to witness a flying kick to the boy's stomach. "Pretty sure that's a girl," he said.

"Anyways, they're mean and they'd hurt us!"

"I... I could protect you," said John, watching the ferocious fight still in progress. "I protect my brother."

"You have a brother?"

"Sure." John shrugged. "Baby Davey. Well, he's not really a baby any more." He looked down at his hands and his throat tightened. "My Dad says he's real smart."

"I bet you're smart!" said Meredith. "But I'm smarter."

"How d'you figure that?"

"I'm smarter than everyone. I have esseptional intellectual ability." He wiggled his fingers in the air.

John slumped against the wall. His Dad always seemed pleased with Baby Davey. "Do you have a brother?"

"No." Meredith collapsed so that his curled form mirrored John's. "I don't think my Mom and Dad want any more kids. I don't think they like me that much. Maybe that's why I'm here."

John's lip was sore from being chewed. "That can't be right. Mom and Dad wouldn't send me away!" He sat up straighter and turned to face Meredith. "Um... While we're here, you could be my brother. If you wanna." He ducked his head and felt his face heat.

"What would that involve?" Meredith asked suspiciously.

John shrugged. "Playing stuff; Star Trek, fighter planes, football, uh... you know!"

"I don't usually play."

John laughed, but Meredith's face was solemn. "What d'you do then? With friends?"

"I do math and science 'speriments. Unless Mom and Dad say 'No more 'speriments, Meredith, cos renovation's 'spensive!'" He hesitated, chewing the tip of one finger. "Don't have friends."

"You must have friends!"

Meredith shook his head. "I find it difficult to relate to my peers," he said, wiggling his fingers in the air again.

"What's that mean? And why d'you keep going...?" John raised his hands and wiggled his fingers.

"It means other kids don't like me. And these," (more finger-wiggling), "are quote marks, like when you write speech, cos it's what Mom and Dad say 'bout me."

"I like you," said John.

"Oh. Really?"

"Sure. I asked you to be my brother, didn't I? And, I bet they'd like you too!"

"What, those wild kids?"

"Yeah." John stood up and held out his hand. "C'mon, Mewediff, I'll show you how to make friends!"

"What'll we do if they start hurting us?"

"Dunno. Run real fast? But they won't." He waggled his hand, encouragingly. Meredith took it and John pulled him to his feet and out from between the sheltering beds.

oOo

Meredith allowed the boy with the crazy hair to pull him along. John. His friend, John. Names were slippery things that slid out of his mind, where facts and figures, patterns and shapes just stuck. But he'd remember John. And John said they could be kind-of brothers, which was probably good, but he'd wait and see. John might decide he didn't like Meredith after all.

The wild, mean kids had seen them. John was right. One of them was a girl, although Meredith wasn't sure how he knew. The boy was tall and shaggy and his top was ripped so that one sleeve hung off. He pulled it the rest of the way off and then yanked hard at his other shoulder until that one ripped off too, so at least he was symmetrical. The girl took his hand and marched up to them. She stood squarely, her other hand on her hip and looked them up and down with frank curiosity.

"I am Teyla of the Athosians!" she announced. "And this is my friend." She leant forward and lowered her voice. "I do not think he can speak." She stood up straight and gazed between them, her eyes bright with interest. "Who are you?"

"I'm John and this is Mewediff."

"Meredith Rodney McKay!" Information should be complete and accurate.

Teyla laughed, but not in a mean, making-fun way. "Meredith Rodney McKay! Meredith Rodney McKay!" She chanted, rhythmically, catching hold of the mystery boy's other hand and dancing him round and round. He didn't look like he was enjoying the whole thing, but would go along with it anyway. The girl must have won their fight. Teyla. She came to a giggling halt and brushed some strands of hair out of her eyes. Her gaze fixed on John and her expression became thoughtful. John shuffled and ducked his head. He didn't seem that confident with the whole making friends thing.

"John is too short!" Teyla declared. John flinched. He started chewing his lip again and his cheeks were red.

"He's taller than you!" Meredith suddenly wanted to challenge this confident stranger. He folded his arms tightly over his chest and tilted his chin upward, defiantly. If the fighting girl hit him, he'd just have to take it! John shot him a grateful smile.

Teyla shook her head. "No, I meant his name! I will call you Jonto, because that is longer and more Athosian."

"What's Athosian?" Meredith asked.

"The people of Athos, of course. Where I am from!"

"Is that somewhere in Europe?" John asked.

"I do not know Europe, Jonto."

John looked at Rodney. They both smirked.

"We're American!"

"Canadian!" Meredith corrected.

"Really?" said John.

"Yes!"

"D'you get to eat maple syrup every day? On waffles and pancakes and everything?"

"No."

"Oh. What's the point, then?"

Meredith suddenly felt cheated. Did other Canadians get maple syrup every day?

"I have not heard of those worlds!" said Teyla.

"They're not worlds, they're countries!" said Meredith. "On Earth! The World! There's only one world!" His mind raced. There was definitely no blue box in the room.

"There are lots of worlds!" said Teyla. "Worlds and worlds and worlds! Oh!" She faltered and then said, kindly, "Have your people not taken you through the Ancestors' Ring yet?"

Meredith looked at John, who seemed equally baffled.

"Why were you two fighting?" Meredith asked, taking the conversation onto safer ground.

"We were not really fighting. We were sparring!"

The nameless boy looked like he'd dispute that if he could find the words.

"We must train to fight well so that we can defend ourselves against the Wraith!"

"What, ghosts?" asked Meredith. "There's no such thing!"

"The Wraith are not ghosts!"

"What are they, then?" John asked.

"You truly do not know the Wraith?" Teyla's voice was incredulous; she and the shaggy boy exchanged amazed glances. "If your Earth has never been culled you should go back there!"

"I didn't know we left." Meredith moved closer to John and felt John's hand tighten round his.

"Aliens," John whispered.

Meredith gulped and felt sick. "Are we really on another planet?"

"I do not know where we are!" said Teyla. "I went to sleep in my family's tent and then woke up here." She looked at Ronon. "We were not culled." He shook his head. "Perhaps the Ancestors have brought us here to reward us. Or to judge us."

"Ancestors? Like old, dead people?" asked John.

"You do not know the Ancestors either? Earth must be a strange, distant world. But the Wraith will come there, one day! They always do. We should spar so that we are ready!" She lashed out with a fist and thumped John hard in the ribs. He folded forward with a pained cry.

"What did you do that for?" demanded Rodney.

"I am sorry, Jonto! I am sorry! But he did not block! Why did he not block?"

John sank to the floor and hid his face in his arms.

"You can't just go round hitting people!"

"But we have to learn! Do your people not learn to fight?"

"Only soldiers, or boxers or bad, mean kids that scrub out all the math you chalked on the sidewalk just when it was working out!"

"I am really sorry!" Teyla sank to the floor and tried to put a sympathetic arm around John, but he shuffled away until he was half under one of the beds. Teyla knelt near him, her face downcast. Meredith knew this making friends business wouldn't work out. And they hadn't even had a chance to run.

The mystery boy shambled over to stand near John. He folded himself down into a pile of long, angular limbs.

"Uh... Ronon. 't's my name." He reached out, slowly and prodded John's curled back. "She hurt me too."

John's arms moved oddly as if he were trying to wipe his eyes without anyone seeing. He uncurled and turned round.

"Hey, Ronon," he croaked.

"I am very sorry, Jonto. I did not mean to hurt you," said Teyla.

"'s okay," he said, sniffing. "I guess you're just too quick for me."

"And me," said Ronon.

"I am sorry for hurting you too, Ronon. I thought you were enjoying sparring!"

Ronon shrugged. "It was fun. Don't mind gettin' hurt."

"I've never seen anyone fight like that," said John. "That's what you do for fun?"

"I also like to hunt," said Teyla.

"You have a gun?"

"A bow and arrows which I made. My parents helped me."

"Oh. I made a bow once, but it broke," said John.

"Did your father or mother not show you the best type of wood?"

John shrugged. "I don't think they'd know."

"Yours must be a strange world," said Teyla. "How do your people live?"

"Uh, Dad does important business stuff. Stocks or something."

"Stock? Animals?"

"We have horses and a coupla dogs."

Meredith shook his head. It was like binary and decimal. Each sounded sensible, but the two sides of the conversation didn't meet in the middle. "I'm hungry!"

"Me too!" said Ronon, leaping to his feet. Meredith flinched, but got up, warily.

"Is there any food here?" John asked.

"No," said Teyla. "We have tried to open the door, but it is locked."

John winced as he stood up and straightened. Meredith followed him toward a large doorway, rectangular, but with an extra bit cut out of the top. There was no handle or button or anything that looked like controls. His stomach gurgled unhappily.

"Okay," said John, reaching out. "Well, maybe..."

The door slid open, revealing a dark corridor.


	2. Chapter 2

Jonto took a step forward and the corridor flooded with light. He jumped and looked back. Teyla smiled encouragingly and moved up alongside him. There was a wide doorway immediately beside her, on the right, and a narrow door on the left. Teyla reached out and touched the smooth surface nearest to her. Nothing happened.  
"This way is locked," she said.

Jonto reached toward the other door and it slid silently open. Ronon and Meredith crowded round, Teyla on tiptoe behind them. 

"Thank the Ancestors!" she said, gratefully.

They all surged forward together and were briefly jammed in the doorway before they burst into the room beyond. Shortly after, there were four sighs of relief. Teyla was glad that her people traded with some advanced civilisations, or she might not have understood what the room was for. Bathrooms on Athos were usually dug in the ground and if one was lucky, a plank rested over the top, covered with a small tent when the weather was at its coldest.

She sat inside the tiny room-within-a-room and listened to the boys.

"Hey, what's this?"

There was an outraged shriek.

"I guess it's a shower."

"I'm soaking wet!"

"You didn't have to get in!"

"You didn't have to press that button!"

"You'll dry! It's not cold!"

The voices receded and Teyla swung her legs, which didn't quite reach the ground. She sang an Athosian hunting song, enjoying the effect as her voice reverberated hollowly from the shining hard walls of her cubicle.

"Teyla! Food!" Ronon's voice.

She finished up and ran across the corridor where the door opposite stood open.

"Look at all this!" Jonto had a stack of large flatbreads in his arms, which he heaved onto a central table. The room was lined with cupboards, their doors left swinging open, the contents revealed. Meredith stood to one side, chewing a fingertip, while Jonto and Ronon ransacked the cupboards. Ronon had his mouth full and juice ran down his chin.

Teyla laughed. "I think that is enough food for now!" She scrambled up onto a high stool and leant across the table to take some bread. Ronon climbed right up onto the tabletop and sat in the middle, cross-legged where he could reach everything. Jonto climbed onto a stool too, but Meredith hung back.

"C'mon, Mewediff! Time to eat!"

"Don't think I should," he said, his mouth drooping, his brows drawn together.

Teyla slid off her stool. "What is wrong, Meredith? Is this food not familiar to you? It is good!"

"It looks real good, but, I can't!" His lower lip began to tremble. "It might kill me!"

Ronon leant over the side of the table and spat his mouthful onto the floor.

"Eww, Ronon, that is so gross!"

"He said it was poisoned!"

Meredith shook his head. "No! It's alright for you, it's just me. But I'm so hungry!" A trembling hand smeared a tear angrily across his pale face.

Teyla put an arm around his shoulders. "Tell us why you cannot eat, Meredith."

He sniffed. "I'm 'llergic to citrus. You know, lemons and oranges and grapefruit and all those. And it's in lots of stuff so my Mom only gives me things where you can read what's in them. I'm difficult to cater for," he added, wiggling his fingers in the air before his arms returned to clutching opposite elbows. "And I get hypo... hypocly... hypogly... My blood goes funny if I don't eat." He crumpled to the floor and Teyla knelt next to the drooping form.

"He is very pale," she said. "He must eat, quickly! What is this citrus?"

"It's like juicy stuff that makes your face go..." Jonto's face scrunched up into a pained grimace.

Ronon imitated it and so did Teyla, in case it helped. "It is sour? We should be able to taste that!"

"You can't always," mumbled Meredith.

Jonto jumped down from his stool. "Look, here's a potato-thing! I've tasted it. It's just... potatoey!"

Meredith looked at it suspiciously.

Teyla took the vegetable and nibbled the end. "It is a little like a tuttle root," she said. "We could call it a tittle root?"

Meredith giggled weakly. He took the tittle root and sniffed it, then took a bite. He chewed and swallowed.

"You're still alive," said Ronon.

"So far," said Meredith, brows lowered.

"Have some more," Jonto encouraged. "And there's these beans! They won't have lemon in!"

Meredith finished the tittle root and Teyla saw colour begin to creep back into his face. "Come, Meredith, sit up and eat."

"Okay! But you have to keep everything away from me unless it's safe! I can't even touch anything with citrus in, ever!"

"That sucks," said Jonto. "No lemonade!"

"No," said Meredith.

"No lemon meringue pie!"

"No."

"No..."

"Jonto, I do not think that is helping!"

Jonto smirked, but said, "Sorry Mewediff."

Teyla ate some bread and something that was like cheese but more springy. Ronon took a piece and bounced it off the floor. Jonto laughed, but Meredith regarded the abandoned piece of cheese solemnly.

"You could have some, Meredith! Cheese is not sour."

He shrugged, absently. "Maybe. I was just thinking about how it bounced."

"Pretty high!" said Jonto, grinning.

"Yes, but it was a funny shape. If you knew which bit would hit the ground first, maybe you could tell which way it'd go!"

"Why would you need to know?" asked Teyla.

"I don't know! It's just interesting!" Meredith wriggled his legs beneath him so he knelt forward over the table. His face lit up. "Hey, John, I know something really cool! You know those chips, Pringle's, the ones you get in tubes?"

Jonto nodded. "Haven't had 'em yet, though."

"You've seen the ads, though, right? They're that curvy shape?"

"Yeah, I've seen it."

"D'you know what it's called? Do you?"

"They're just chips."

"No! No, the name of the shape!" Meredith took a deep breath and leant even further forward. "Hyperbolic paraboloid!" he said, reverently.

Jonto's lips moved silently. "Hyperlipoboid?" he tried.

"No! Say it after me! Hyperbolic..."

"Hyperbolic..."

"Paraboloid!"

"Paraboloid!"

"Hyperbolic paraboloid!" they said, together.

Jonto laughed.

Ronon had stopped chewing, a piece of bread hanging from his mouth. His eyes met Teyla's, equally baffled. He chewed up his mouthful rapidly, swallowed and said, "I'm done. Let's explore."

oOo

The bedroom, the bathroom, the kitchen; just one more door at the far end of the corridor.

"Race you!" Ronon ran, knowing he'd win. He smacked into the door hard, which hurt, but he didn't care. Then the door slid open and he fell through and his new friends fell on top of him. His knees and palms stung from the impact with the hard surface. Hard and warm and shockingly bright with reflected light. Ronon leapt up.

"Ow, Ronon!"

"Outside! Woooooo!" Ronon ran, across the paved area, jumped down some shallow steps and out onto green grass that stretched away before him, filling his heart with the joy of space and freedom. He jumped and rolled, sprang off feet, then hands, then feet, ran some more and then jumped in place, shouting wordlessly and waving his arms. He turned and looked back, still jumping up and down, letting his arms flop loosely at his sides. John was running, arms stretched wide, banking and turning, yelling and jumping like some crazy bird. Teyla stood still like a tree, arms stretched up to the sun, head tipped back and eyes closed, her feet taking her in a slow meandering course. Meredith lingered near the steps, his face screwed up, one hand shading his eyes. He sneezed.

Ronon stopped jumping. Grass, trees, space; he felt like he could run and run. But exploring with friends would be more fun. They could climb trees together and build a den and get some food and bring it outside. He jogged easily back toward them. John ran past Meredith, with a weird, stuttering cry, his arms still outstretched.

"I got you, Mewediff!" he yelled. "You shoulda taken me out with a missile!"

Meredith sneezed again.

John skidded to a halt, his arms dropping to his sides. "Hey, you okay?"

"Hayfever," said Meredith. "And it's too bright. I'll burn. I'd better go in." He turned away.

"No, you can't go in!" John protested.

"What is hayfever, Meredith?" Teyla asked. "Are you unwell?"

"Not really. I sneeze a lot and my eyes are all itchy and my nose runs." He sneezed again.

"Oh, summer sickness! There are herbs that can help!"

Meredith nodded. "I take medicine. But, anyway, my skin burns easily, so I'll have to go in."

"It's shady, over there, under the trees," said Ronon.

"Yeah, let's explore the jungle!" said John. "Come on, Mewediff. Brothers, remember?" He held out his hand.

"I don't know. I'm not really an outside person. I'm too high maintence to go outside, 'specially in the summer." His fingers gave a half-hearted wiggle.

Ronon looked at John.

"It's stuff his parents say," said John, his eyes dark. "The wiggly fingers?"

Ronon folded his arms. Outside was the best place to be. You could do all sorts of stuff outside and those things were best done with friends. "What do you need?"

"What?"

"We're exploring and you're coming. What do you need?"

"Um... shade, or maybe a hat. Kleenex. My medicine, but we haven't got any."

"We will all go back in and see what we can find," said Teyla.

"Yeah, c'mon, Mewediff, let's get supplies for our mission!"

oOo

Meredith patted the back of his neck. It didn't feel burnt, and now that he had a hat, of sorts, and was in the dappled shade beneath the trees, maybe it would be okay. The hot, tight pain of sunburn wasn't something he ever wanted to experience again. Mom had been angry that day and said it was his fault, even though he didn't think he'd been out that long. The numbers he'd chalked on the sidewalk had been big, beautiful numbers and he supposed he must've got carried away.

"'kay, Mewediff?" John had turned round to walk backward on the trail. He'd probably run into a tree, but didn't seem to care.

He nodded and smiled at his friend and John spun round to face the front again, following Teyla between the trees. Ronon was at the back sometimes, but sometimes he was above them, climbing from tree to tree and sometimes his echoing cries seemed to come from all directions through the woodland.

He had friends. Three friends, and he was outside playing with them. Even if this was an alien planet, the most alien thing of all was that these kids seemed to like him. They hadn't got impatient with his fears or allergies, they hadn't got bored and wandered off, they hadn't got mean and angry and they hadn't called him names. They smiled and talked to him like he was one of them and he wasn't sure how to react. Usually it was easy; he'd get angry back at people or even get angry first to save time. He'd stopped waiting for them to call him a mean name and started calling them names first, to get in before they started. It was... efficient, that was the word. They wouldn't like him or be interested in his math or his science, so he'd be mean first and then he could go back to doing what he wanted on his own; it was what he was used to.

"Something weird up ahead," said Ronon, dropping down from a tree.

"Weird? What, like scary weird? Like something waiting to eat us weird?"

Ronon looked at him, blankly, and shrugged. "Just weird."

"We will be stealthy hunters and creep up on this thing!" said Teyla.

"Cool!" John and Teyla bent low and crept softly through the trees. Ronon had gone again.

Meredith followed his friends, the undergrowth thicker as they approached a clearing. Teyla moved silently and John had the knack of avoiding the noisiest twigs, but each of Meredith's tentative, barefoot steps resulted in cracking and splintering and yelps as his soft soles met the crunchy forest floor. John turned round and put his fingers to his lips. Right. Quiet. Meredith's nose tickled, then twitched, and he sneezed explosively. John's shoulders curled up and he froze. Meredith froze too. Any second now, John would turn round and yell and Meredith would end up on his own again. Then John let out a massive, snorting laugh, and turned round, grinning.

"Run!" He crashed through the treeline and out into the light, the sun glinting off the wild spikes of his hair. Teyla ran too and so did Meredith, smashing twigs and tripping over roots and just not caring, because he had real friends for the first time ever.


	3. Chapter 3

"Weird," said John, agreeing with Ronon's verdict.

It was a bit like a railroad track, but without the rails, a long line of parallel chunks of stone, like crossties. It looked like you could jump from one to the next pretty easily.

"Maybe it's one of those sculptures, like in this sculpture park I went to once," said Meredith. He tugged his improvised hat so that it was nearly down to his eyebrows. Those bedsheets had been tough to rip, until Ronon had found a sharp knife in the kitchen. "You could climb on them. Only I didn't."

"Climb now, then! Come on, let's be trains!"

John leapt onto one of the stones and a bell-like chime rang through the clearing. He wobbled and leapt onto the next one and heard a lower chime.

"Cool!"

More chimes rang out as he bounced up and down the stones.

"Doesn't work for me," said Ronon.

John stopped. Ronon was jumping up and down in place, with just the slap of bare feet. Meredith shuffled on his stone and a clear chime rang out.

"Teyla?"

Teyla shook her head and stepped down onto the patchy carpet of bare earth and tiny flowers. Ronon took off into the trees again, climbing swiftly up into the lower branches and circling the clearing. Meredith stepped cautiously over to the next stone in line and John returned to his exploration, running along each stone in turn until the chimes were deep, resonants booms and then all the way back up to tiny tinkling bells.

"This is great!" he said, jumping over a two at a time.

"It's pentatonic," said Meredith.

"Huh?"

"The black keys on a piano?"

"Oh," said John.

"It means it'll sound good, no matter what we do!"

"'kay, you go low, I'll go high!"

Meredith stepped slowly from one stone to the next and John ran up the top end and tried to jump in time, fitting in two or sometimes three to every one of Meredith's. The harmony rang through the forest glade and he became totally absorbed, until he looked up and caught sight of Teyla, sitting cross-legged on the ground. She was very still, which seemed wrong. He jumped down.

"Whatcha doing?"

"I am meditating." Her cheeks were wet.

"Come on, get up," he said, reaching down.

"It will not work for me, Jonto."

"I have an idea. Trust me." He took her hand and pulled her to her feet then climbed up onto the nearest stone, pulling Teyla with him. He edged back as far as he could go.

"Stand on my feet," he said.

Teyla laughed. She placed her small feet on top of his, her back to his front, and he clasped his arms around her.

"You're heavy! Not sure I can move!"

She laughed again. "Don't let go!"

"I won't." John stepped cautiously over to the next stone, one foot, then the other. The chime sounded and he moved more quickly, getting his balance with Teyla's extra weight. Meredith bounced past, heading the opposite way.

"You go down there! I've worked out a tune!"

John and Teyla headed down to the lower tones and played along, while Meredith leapt and pivoted among the high chimes, stopping every so often to punctuate his melody with a resounding sneeze or trumpet into his bedsheet handkerchief. John followed Teyla's pointing hand or the turn of her head, until she led him up to the highest stone.

"Keep going!"

He leapt off the end and they broke apart and landed, rolling over and over in the ferns and moss. Teyla picked a stalk out of her hair and a clump of moss out of John's.

"John," she said. Her eyes reflected the golden brown of the forest-dappled sunlight. "Thank you." She leant forward and put her hands on his shoulders.

"Um..."

"You lean forward too."

"Ow."

"Just touch, do not bang!"

"Sorry." It was strange, being so close, face-to-face. Teyla sat up and he leant back, his hands behind him, fingers curling into the soft, dry dirt.

"You called me John."

"Yes." She twisted a fern stalk between her fingers. "That, what we just did, was Athosian. For when you want to say thank you, or for lots of other things. But you are not Athosian and I should not change your name to fit. I am sorry."

"'s okay."

oOo

Ronon had found a pool. He flung his clothes off and splashed, then waded, then swam, then remembered his friends. He ran back through the forest, jumping over logs, leaping up to swing on overhanging branches, his pounding feet toughened from an outdoor life.

"There's a pool! Come and swim!"

John laughed. "Did you lose your clothes?"

"Took 'em off! Come on!" He turned and raced back through the trees. Teyla sped past and he chased her, overtaking her when she stopped at the poolside. He turned and jumped up and down, so that the water surged and foamed about him.

"Wait, Ronon!" She flung her clothes out of splashing distance and jumped in, bounded through the shallows and then darted like a fish toward the deeper end. Ronon followed, flailing his arms and kicking hard. His cousins had taught him to swim last summer but he needed practice to glide through the water like they did. Teyla surfaced nearby, waved and then disappeared again, with barely a ripple. He turned and laboured back to the shallows, where John was jumping up and down.

"Come on in, Mewediff! Come and splash!"

Meredith stood on the side, his muddy toes curling over the carved stone edge. He mumbled, shuffled and folded his arms tightly round his chest.

"Huh?"

"I said I can't swim!"

"So? Just splash!"

Ronon waded closer. "I couldn't swim last year. Then I learned. You could learn."

"It looks cold. And I'd prob'ly slip and drown."

John laughed. "No you won't! Come on in!"

"Don't want to take my clothes off," Meredith mumbled.

"Don't then," said Ronon.

"They'll get wet!"

"They'll dry."

oOo

So, here was another thing that made him the odd one out; the one that had to be protected, 'special arrangements made at every turn'. There was the citrus allergy, the hayfever, skin that burnt straight away. He couldn't run as fast, couldn't climb as well, made too much noise, and now everyone else could swim and he couldn't; and as for the way they all just took off the forest-stained pajamas and ran about naked and didn't care...!

"Splash us!" said John.

Ronon sat down and waved his arms and legs so that he was surrounded by flying white water. It looked like fun.

Meredith lowered himself carefully to sit on the warm stone edge. He kicked his feet.

"Harder, Mewediff!" John stood and let himself be splashed.

Meredith kicked harder, then stood up and stomped around in the shallow water. John and Ronon stomped with him.

"Let's play crocodiles!" said John.

"What's a crocodile?"

"It's like a monster that lives in rivers! It's long and has big jaws with lots of teeth that go like this!" John slapped his stretched arms together.

"They lie under water with just their eyes and nose out of the water so you think they're a log!" said Meredith.

"Yeah, and then they eat you! I'm a crocodile!" John lay full length in the water and pulled himself along, his hands walking along the bottom of the pool. Ronon joined in. 

Meredith crouched down and leant forward. He shivered as the water crept higher up his chest, but then let himself fall onto his outstretched hands. The shock of cold made him shriek. He gritted his teeth and began pulling himself along, his legs dragging behind him. If he went faster, his legs floated.

"I'm swimming!" Water splashed into his mouth and he choked and coughed, but carried on.

oOo

In the deep blue-green depths, Teyla crouched, bubbles streaming from her nose to rise toward the light. She pushed off and chased them to the surface, bursting out into the fresh, warm air, closing her eyes against the glare. She laughed and bobbed and kicked and then looked back to the shallows, where the boys were skimming along the surface in sudden darts and surges.

Teyla stretched out and lay on the water, letting her arms and legs drag and allowing herself to drift with the movement of the wavelets. Above her the sky was blue, edged with a ring of spindly, leaf-clad branches that gently shifted in the soft breeze. She did not know where she was or when she might return to her family, and yet she felt safe. This, surely, must be the work of the Ancestors, and therefore she should trust in their wisdom and enjoy this gift of play and friends. 

The Ancestors had made good choices, however they had picked their four subjects. She and John and Ronon and Meredith were each very different, but they seemed to fit together and get along, helping each other and simply having fun. John had helped her play on the music stones and they had all helped Meredith find safe things to eat and made him a hat and handkerchiefs so he could come exploring. Athosian children lived outside, only coming in to sleep and when the winter snows fell hard. But when Teyla had heard Meredith playing on the music stones, weaving his melody round her and John's tones, responding to their moves to create patterns of bitter and sweet, she had realised that perhaps he had found a different freedom; a place to play and learn entirely inside his own mind.

A few swift, smooth pulls through the cool water brought her to the shallows. She drifted, still and silent, reaching out; and touched, grabbed, pulled and wrestled as Ronon fought her off, then climbed out and lay on the warm stone to dry in the sun.

oOo

Meredith was still damp and his clothes chafed as he followed his friends back through the woodland. They all looked dry, their clothes and bodies baked separately on the paved side of the pool. Meredith had lain in the shade in his wet pajamas, wary of sunburn. The air was warm, but the soft breeze was enough to raise goosebumps. He shivered and thought about the latent heat of vaporization, the velocity of water molecules and the fact that the whole business would be better off studied in a lab instead of making him cold.

They emerged from the woodland and Meredith saw, across the wide lawn, the long, flat lines of the smooth, cream stone building where the day had begun. The sun hovered low above its roof, but Meredith remained beneath the dipping branches of the trees, his arms clasped around himself. He shivered again. John turned and looked back at him.

"Campfire!"

"I'll get wood," Ronon agreed.

"I will find stones for a fireplace!" Teyla scampered back into the trees.

"We'll get food to cook! C'mon, Mewediff!"

oOo

Meredith ran behind John, the sun-warmed grass prickly beneath his bare feet. John waited for him on the stepped paving, and Meredith shivered again as he came into the shade of the building.

"You're cold. Swap with me!" John pulled off his shirt and held it out.

"No, mine are still damp. You'll get cold."

"Nah, I'm hot. Swap!" He shook the pajama top.

Meredith peeled off his own and gratefully put on John's dry one. He wasn't sure about swapping pants, but did it anyway, with his eyes shut.

"Better?"

"Yes. Thanks."

The damp clothes stuck to John's skinny frame, but he ran into the house, unconcerned. The kitchen was a mess. Meredith giggled.

"What?"

"Looks like monkeys have got in."

"No, just us!" John capered around the room, making monkey noises.

"My Mom and Dad get angry if I make a mess."

"Yeah, mine too. Maybe that's what this place is for."

"What, to make a mess?"

"Just to do, whatever. Not get told what to do or what not to do. What d'you think we could cook? S'mores woulda been great!"

"We'll have to improvise. Rubber-cheese! On sticks!"

"What else?"

"Um... the potato things."

"Teyla called 'em tittle root." They both snickered.

Meredith opened and closed cupboard doors in search of tittle root. At home, doors were to be closed with care. He slammed one, experimentally. John laughed.

"Slam that door again and I'll tan your hide!" he said, his voice deep and threatening. He grinned, and then opened three doors and slammed them all in quick succession.

Meredith copied, laughing even as he flinched at the noise.

"Look! Tittle roots!" John held a chunky brown vegetable in each hand.

"Are they cooked?"

He bashed one of them on the table, with in a hard thud. "Guess not. We can bake them in the fire."

"Won't they just burn?"

John shrugged. "Dunno. What else?"

"We could toast the bread?"

"Yeah. That'll do. Is that a scrap of sheet there?"

Meredith picked up the ripped piece of sheet from the floor. "'It's not hygienic Meredith!'" his high-pitched rendition of his mother's voice was pretty accurate.

John laughed. "'s fine!" He wrapped the bread and tittle routes into a bundle. "You bring the rubber-cheese. And a knife."

oOo

Teyla was pleased with her fire and pleased with Ronon's selection of firewood, which was all dry and would burn well. She sorted it into piles, away from stray sparks, so that quick-burning twigs would come easily to hand and also larger chunks of slow burning wood that would sustain an even glow for cooking.

"Will these do?"

"Yes, thank you Ronon, they are perfect!" She took the bundle of straight sticks and began stripping off the bark. Ronon sat down and joined in.

John dumped a bundle next to her and Meredith set down the container of bouncy cheese.

"Are we ready to cook? Can we use those to stick in the cheese?"

"The fire is not ready yet, Meredith. It needs to burn down a bit and glow orange." Teyla passed him a stick. "You can get the cheese ready."

They prepared the sticks together, and when the fire burnt lower and the sun disappeared beneath the flat roof of the house, she put the tittle roots where the glow was slow and steady and they began to toast bits of bread and cheese.

"Does this look done to you?" said John.

"It'd probably go more melty if you give it longer."

"Do not hold it in the flame!" Teyla said. "It will burn!"

"Why do you talk like that?" Flames danced in Meredith's eyes as he looked at her across the campfire.

"I do not understand."

"There!" Meredith pointed with his cheese-stick, as if he could pin down her words. "You said 'do not', when you could say don't."

"It is the Athosian way." She calmly nibbled her piece of toasted bread and poked one of the tittle roots with a stick, to turn it over.

"Why? It takes longer! What happens when you need to say something really fast?"

"My people say words are precious. They should not be rushed."

"Doesn't seem very efficient, to me. You might not get through everything before someone interrupts."

Teyla smiled. "My people do not interrupt."

"Oh."

"What's it like where you're from, Ronon?" John asked.

"Sateda?" Ronon shrugged. "Some big towns, cities. I like the country. Being outside."

"The Wraith destroyed the towns and cities on Athos," said Teyla. "A long time ago. Before I was born."

"Sateda's strong," said Ronon. "If they come, we're gonna fight back! I'm gonna be a soldier and help! Bet I kill loads of Wraith!"

"Athos was strong," Teyla said quietly. "It did not help."

"We have weapons! Guns that can kill them! Everyone says so!"

Teyla said nothing. She continued to turn the tittle roots, to cook them evenly. The fire consumed; the Wraith consumed. It was the way of things.


	4. Chapter 4

John took a piece of bread, slid his cheese off its stick, messily, and slapped another piece of bread on top. He squashed it between his hands so that the cheese oozed out of the sides.

"That looks good! I'm doing that!" Meredith reached for the bread.

John regarded his sandwich, thoughtfully.

"What are Wraith?" he said. "I mean, what do they look like? What do they do?"

"I've never seen one," Ronon admitted. "Only pictures."

"I have," Teyla said, bleakly. John thought she wasn't going to continue. Sighing, she brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and tucked it behind an ear. "They are like men, but tall and very strong. They have long white hair and pale skin, cold and wet like green ice. They have..." Her voice faltered and she shuddered, her arms clasped tightly around her knees. "They have lots of teeth, but they... feed through a mouth on one hand."

"Feed?" Meredith stopped eating and swallowed weakly. "Feed, as in, they eat people?"

"They feed on life." Teyla's head drooped.

"So, it's not like a war."

"No, John. They kill us like animals."

John shuffled closer to Meredith.

"How do they come? In space ships?"

"In ships and through the Ancestors' Ring."

"What is that, the Ancestors' Ring?"

"It's a gate to other worlds," Ronon said. "You put in a code and it wooshes out and then you step through a puddle."

"A wormhole!" Meredith's eyes widened and he clapped his hands. "That's an event horizon and a wormhole! That is so..."

"Cool?" suggested John.

"The coolest thing ever, ever, ever!" Meredith picked up his abandoned sandwich and began consuming it in huge, enthusiastic bites.

"We don't have a ring... gate-thing on Earth. Or ships."

"We'll find a gate, or make one," said Meredith, around his sandwich. "And ships! I'll make them and you can fly them!"

"Yeah, and then we can fight the Wraith with you guys!"

Teyla smiled. "It is said that one day the Ancestors will return to rid us of the Wraith. The lost city of Atlantis will rise from the oceans of Lantea and its lights will shine across the galaxy."

"Atlantis!" John looked at Meredith, seeing his own surprise reflected. "Atlantis was on Earth! Or there's a story, anyway."

Teyla had been poking at the tittle roots again. She stopped and put down her stick, her lips pursed, her eyes blinking rapidly. John wondered if she was going to cry and what he'd do if she did.

"You are Ancestors," she said, her voice trembling.

"What?"

"The Ancestors brought us here. This place is theirs."

"So?"

"Doors open for you. The chimes play for you. Both of you. And you are right, Meredith! You will come and we will fight and together we will defeat the Wraith!"

"Oh. Really?" Meredith exchanged a nervous glance with John. "Fight?"

Teyla got up and moved around the fire, knelt down and touched her forehead to Meredith's. She did the same with John and then with Ronon. Then she stood, the fire uplighting her face, lending her age and wisdom, a warrior queen to follow into battle.

"The Ancestors have given us this time to show us the future." She reached down to John and pulled him up, gesturing to Ronon and Meredith. They stood around their fire, cold darkness behind, and ahead, the warmth and light of the fire and each other; Teyla's face hopeful and determined, Ronon glowering, his fists clenched, ready to fight, and Meredith, his arms folded, his chin tilted up, afraid, yet steadfast. John's heart beat fast, his muscles tensed, his mind filled with images of places he'd never been, tall towers shining in the light of strange stars and a dark ocean below. Then Ronan suddenly threw back his head, and released a long, high, wordless yell, and John laughed and joined in and they all yelled and ran, danced and sang. John forgot about the future; there was only the night and the fire and his friends.

oOo

Ronon had collapsed face down on his bed and was snoring. Teyla slid between her sheets and was still. John lay, staring up at the ceiling.

"We ripped up my sheet," said Meredith.

John moved over. Meredith climbed in and pulled the cover over both of them.

"Will we be here in the morning?"

"Dunno."

"What if I'm here and you're not?"

"I'll be here if you are." John yawned.

"Will we really find Atlantis? And fly spaceships? And fight aliens?"

"Yeah," said John. "But not tonight."

oOo

There were pale cream walls, where they should mirror the colour of the surrounding ocean. There was artificial light where the long lines of the dawn should spill through the towers of Atlantis and into his room. There was a large lump in bed next to his, and there were voices close by.

"You kicked my ass."

"I did. But you fought well."

"You fought like a wild cat."

"I have since learnt to move more efficiently."

"You still kick my ass."

John sat up. There was a table. Teyla and Ronon, clad in adult-size white pajamas, were eating.

"Hey, guys!" He yawned, rubbed a hand around his stubbly chin and through his hair, and swung his legs out of the bed.

"Good morning, John!"

"Sheppard." Ronon nodded and continued eating.

"So... er... yeah." John massaged the back of his neck, feeling none of his usual tension. His brain, though slow to gear up, wanted answers, but struggled to prioritise.

There was a snort from the shrouded lump and Rodney shot bolt upright, eyes wide, hair a shocked fuzz. "What? Where are we? What happened? Was that real? Was it VR? Am I here?" He began patting and pinching himself all over. "Ow! No, anyways, you could simulate pain in VR! How did...? What...?"

"McKay?"

"Yes, what?"

"How about we eat?"

"Oh. Yes. Good idea."

They sat around the table. Teyla poured some juice for John and some water for Rodney. Ronon skidded a filled plate across the table, which halted in Rodney's place.

"Should be okay," Ronon said.

John took some bread, rubber-cheese and fruit.

"So... sitrep? You two checked this place out?"

"We are in the building we walked to from the Gate," said Teyla. "Our clothes and weapons are over there, the doors are all open and presumably we are free to leave."

"The old guy? Coponus?"

"No sign of him," said Ronon.

Rodney, his mouth full, leapt up from the table and fought through their belongings.

"Sounds like we have a free run at whatever's powering this joint!" He set his laptop up on the table.

"Yeah, maybe," said John. "But, just so we're all clear... that happened, right? The whole rugrats thing?"

"We were children," said Teyla.

"All the same age, which we're not." Rodney posted cheese into his mouth with one hand and tapped keys with the other. "'bout five?"

"Yeah, sounds right. Five." John rolled a scrap of bread between his fingers and smiled. "It was kinda fun."

"Who put us in these things?" Ronon plucked at the sleeve of his pajamas.

"What, you're happy to accept de-aging, but you can't imagine some kind of automatic pajama technology?" Rodney patted vainly at his plate, his eyes on his screen. He frowned. "Empty plate, here! Please do feed the scientist!" He snapped his fingers.

John tipped some more rubber-cheese onto Rodney's plate. "It was cool, though? Just messing around? Having fun?"

"I am glad you found the experience satisfying."

Coponus, their host, stood in the doorway, smiling as he had smiled on their first arrival, when Rodney had traced a ZPM-strength energy reading to this strangely empty building in its peaceful valley.

"So, let's just get this straight," said Rodney. "When you said we were welcome to stay and investigate this oh-so-mysterious energy source, what you actually meant was, you'd use your own personal ZPM to turn us into kids for a day?"

Coponus shuffled from foot to foot and his lips twisted, incongruously embarrassed in his monk-like white habit.

"Well, you see, it has been rather a long time since my establishment saw any guests. I'm afraid I couldn't resist."

"Establishment? You said it was your home." John judged the distance to his P90. Just in case.

"Ah, yes, it is more in the nature of a retreat. A place where one may come, to forget one's concerns for a short time."

"I was pretty concerned to find myself in a strange place with no memory of how I got there!" protested Rodney.

"An unintended effect. A difference of physiology between yourselves and my usual clientele, perhaps?"

"Uh, yeah, so, listen Coponus," said John. "I get that you were trying to give us a vacation, and, it did make a change from all the usual running, shooting and so on..."

Rodney interrupted. "But what'd it take for you to hand over the goods? Because if it comes to forgetting one's concerns, there's a lot of us who'd be less concerned on a daily basis if Atlantis were properly powered!"

"McKay..."

"Oh, come on Sheppard! Didn't you get a clue from the white robe and the 'I know what's best' attitude? He's an Ancient! Aren't you?"

Coponus merely smiled and inclined his head.

John smiled, ruefully, in return. He pushed his plate away and stood up. "C'mon, then, folks, let's go give Elizabeth the bad news."

"What? We're just going? Giving up?"

"Would you give us your ZPM?" John asked.

"No," replied Coponus, gently.

"Could we take it by force?"

The Ancient smiled again.

"What if we come back with a lot more force?" said Rodney.

"You would find a deserted world," replied Coponus.

Rodney tutted explosively, slammed his laptop shut and began packing it away.

Ronon said, "What if we came again, just for, er... some fun?"

"Guests are always welcome."

"Cool."

oOo

Coponus stood, a white figure in the shady entrance, and waved a dignified farewell. Teyla followed her team as they retraced their steps along the steep path that led to the Gate.

As they neared the head of the valley, John stopped, a hand shading his eyes, and looked back. "It's not the same. There's no garden. The building's all different."

"Where were we, then?" Ronon asked.

"Who knows! I still haven't ruled out VR!" Rodney shook his head. He wiped his forehead and took a drink from his canteen.

"Did you not enjoy the experience, Rodney?" Teyla looked at his face, seeing the little boy with the scrap of bedsheet tied round his head.

He sighed. "ZPM issues apart, yes, I did. It was nice, you know... surprising." He paused, his mouth thinning, his chin lifting in learned defence against ridicule. "I'm glad I got to meet you all at that age and you... um... you accepted me, and, you know, we really are friends."

John shoulder-bumped him roughly.

"Course we're friends, Rodney."

"Yeah, friends." Ronon set off up the steep path.

"Friends and family," agreed Teyla, ushering Rodney ahead of her.

John followed Ronon, but turned and called over his shoulder, "C'mon, Mewediff!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. All reviews and comments welcome as usual! I’m going to plunge straight into the next story, which will hopefully go some way toward saving my sanity over the next couple of weeks! Not sure which idea to go with first… I don’t think I can do action/adventure at the moment, so I might have to go down the silliness route!


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